WE MADE IT!
First, just a reminder: If you want to see pictures and videos of our trip or send us a message, this is our Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/GetTrekd
The journey from Ulaanbaatar to Ulan-Ude was just as difficult as the deep sands of Turkmenistan or the car killer potholes of Mongolia. The car was on its last legs, we were struggling to climb the steep hills and oil was burning away far too quickly for our liking. Thankfully we had The Ladateers and The Driving Dutchmen teams with us to give us a push when we needed it most!
We gunned it towards the finish with excitement building in the convoy until the Lada had some unfortunate engine trouble, 70km from the finish line, that required a roadside quick-fix. Once we were back on the road, it was a drive of reflection. All we had seen, done and endured was being played back in our heads. We rolled up to the podium, two very tired trekkers, but nothing could remove the smiles from our face and the feeling of pride overwhelmed us! We had done it! London to Ulan-Ude. 2 months? Heck it genuinely felt like 2 weeks. The rally had given us the best time of our lives and taught us more about ourselves and each other than any other experience. However it didn't teach us one thing about car repairs...
We are so proud of our little Polo that surpassed expectations and carried us across the world! To the wonderful ralliers, travellers and locals we met along the way, thank you for your kindness and your uplifting spirits (vodka). It's easy to pretend everything is fine when you have a convoy that just wants to have a laugh! Seeing all of the people we had traveled with at one point or another at the finish line was a great feeling and the celebrations were mighty! The transition back to reality will be tough but all good things must come to an end.
What a journey! HELL YEAH WE MADE IT!
ULAANBAATAR
The final stretch to Ulaanbaatar was proving difficult for poor Marco as the 800km of towing had taking a toll on the engine which was coughing and spluttering at us. To see the Ulaanbaatar city skyline in the distance was a sign that things were going to be ok. Well, that's what we thought until plooms of white smoke were pouring out of the exhaust when idling and oil had to be refilled every hour. This is a manageable situation in ANY other place but Ulaanbaatar because the city is in a constant stand-still state of traffic jams.
We endured 2 hours of this traffic, choking on our own exhaust fumes, to travel a total of 4km... Several rally teams in the area decided meet up to share rally stories and check out the nightlife by enjoying some cold drinks especially the delicious local punch!
The following day we took a stroll around the city to do some sightseeing. It took all of 30 minutes, which included a family day-out photoshoot. Our main concern was if our car would make it to the Russian border. Once there we could avoid any Mongolian import taxes and easily get towed to Ulan Ude if needed.
With a few tries to start the car and several litres of oil later, Marco was holding on for dear life. 600km left until the finish line. We knew it would be a close call and our car would probably crawl and scrape over the line but we had faith! Two more days little Marco! Two more days...
SLOW AND STEADY
As we journeyed east in search of our convoy, we could only laugh at our situation when we discovered that our car had developed some strange habits. When we push the brake pedal, the fog lights come on along with the right indicator light, reversing causes the hazard lights to turn on and the rear windscreen wiper is permanently wiping our plywood "window" to make sure we can see clearly at all times. The car looks like a disco both inside and outside! We also discovered that if our fuel tank is almost full, it begins to leak... Nothing major...
We managed to make it to the town of Songino and made contact with our convoy. They had already made it pretty far north and we were beginning to think the southern route might be the best option for us. While in town we met another team, the MKPandas46, driving a Renault Clio in almost perfect condition. Their plan was to travel to the extreme north also but would convoy with us to the town of Numrug before heading our separate ways. In Numrug we stopped for lunch. The previous day we had mutton noodles and again all that was on offer was mutton noodles.
We consulted both the paper map and Google for the best route to head south. Google was showing us a pretty direct route that would suit our schedule but it didn't exist on the paper map. "Rob Schneider decided taking this road was the best option. Little did he know, taking it wasn't all it's cracked up to be. Rated PG-13".
The road itself was bearable for a few kilometres until suddenly we found ourselves stuck in the mud of a waterlogged field with no other cars around. The rain was torrential at this point, which only added to the convenience of the situation. We would take turns trying to pull the car using the tow rope while the other attempted to drive. With almost no progress being made, we were beginning to worry that the water levels would rise to the point of entering the car. Luckily a lone truck happened to pass by and pull us from the mud with ease!
Rather than head back to town, we decided this road couldn't get any worse and kept moving forward. We still have no idea why we trust our instincts or why we don't learn our lesson. After the mud it was only deep potholes or deep sand. The only things we achieved were smashing the sump to bits and burning fuel and oil. After a while we headed back to town, which was just as difficult as leaving it as we picked up yet another flat tyre.
We then headed east to find a more suitable road to go south. On our way we met the MKPandas once again. They had hit a rock that pierced their sump and their engine was struggling to start. Several extremely generous truck drivers offered to stay up all night by the side of the road in order to seal the sump and fix the engine while we camped. To our amazement they managed to have it in decent working order for the team to travel to the next town with us but the car was blowing enough white smoke to elect a new Pope.
We felt that towing them would be the best decision to save their engine and oil consumption for more difficult roads. We were so surprised that little Marco, after all the trouble he had on the awful roads up until this point, could pull the weight of another car!
Lunch for the next two days was as expected: no beef, no chicken, no fish... only mutton. We may as well have ordered mutton with a side of mutton glazed in a succulent mutton sauce.
We were pretty worried about how our car would tow theirs over 800km to Ulaanbaatar until miraculously the roads changed and we were driving on beautifully smooth asphalt! Our luck had taken a turn for the better and it didn't seem so impossible anymore!
After some long stints of driving, we found ourselves 260km from Ulaanbaatar. Only one more night of camping before the luxury of the capital but, oh wow, what a night it was... The worst thunderstorm we have experienced yet. The gale force winds and rain combined with the sand of the dunes where we set up camp made staying outside and eating unbearable. We took shelter in the cars and couldn't even get to the tent at one point as the wind was too strong to open the doors... After nearly two hours we managed to get to the tent, freezing and drenched. It definitely wasn't our best night's sleep but it will be the perfect contrast when we reach Ulaanbaatar! Rated PG-13.
CONVOY CALAMITIES 2.0
After a beautiful time-wasting experience in Khovd, we departed north with our convoy. Along the route, we gathered some good karma by rescuing a 4x4 that was stuck in the sand (ironic). This karma was almost instantaneously negated by the stupid (but fun) driving that followed: Drag races, handbrake turns, excessive speed on awful tracks to look cool... We racked up quite a few breakages as a result: Get Trek'd had two busted wheels within 20 minutes from rocks we had seen in advance, The Ladateers had a collapsed roof rack after getting some SICK AIR TIME and falling less than gracefully back to earth, The Driving Dutchman busted their CV joint (which is essential apparently) from racing too hard...
So with a Suzuki Alto in tow, the convoy decided to take it easy and try to make it to the next town in one piece. Just kidding! The stupidity continued! Everyone driving at least 80km/h with people standing on cars and drifting wildly. Somehow, we made it to a lake to set up camp and took the time to assess the damage. The Dutchmen even tried calling their local breakdown service in the Netherlands to see if there was a chance of a quick call-out. You can probably guess the answer to that one. We could only laugh at our situation when we discovered that our car had developed some strange habits. When we pushed the brake pedal, the fog lights would come on along with the right indicator light, reversing caused the hazard lights to turn on and the rear windscreen wiper was permanently wiping our plywood "window" to make sure we could see clearly at all times. The car looks like a disco both inside and outside!
Before we left camp the next morning, we had accepted our breakages and we were cautiously ready to head further north. We decided to check our oil level (for once) to find it completely empty even though we had refilled the day before. After refilling we couldn't find the oil cap anywhere but also neither of us remembered taking it off in the first place... And so it was lost forever and oil had obviously been shooting out of the reservoir as we drove. The convoy helped us out and with nothing but a rubber glove, zip ties and duct tape, a new oil cap was formed! We assumed the car would be mostly duct tape and rubber gloves by the time we arrived at the finish line.
While travelling with the convoy towards the extreme north of Mongolia, we had decided to take it slightly slower than even the car in tow as we could only afford one more flat tyre and our sump guard was hanging on by a thread. This decision of course came back to haunt us when we lost our convoy along a mountain pass and found ourselves at a literal fork in the road. We took the better looking road which was a huge mistake because the northern roads were obviously worse. Instead of turning back, we trudged on, finding nothing but fields and camels along the way. When even the road ceases to exist, you know you're truly lost.
Google maps showed a main road exactly where we were, among a field of plants with roots so tough they could easily rip through the sump of the engine. The heat of the sun was belting down on us, we were desperately hungry, our maps were unreliable, the engine was making a rattling sound we hadn't heard before and there was no sign of life in any direction... Nervous times to say the least.
We drove for about an hour until we arrived at a filmsy dirt track. Heck, it may as well have been perfectly paved asphalt based on how relieved we were! We continued East in the hope of finding our convoy, a mechanic, food, or a body of water to wash away the smell of fear and hopelessness. We found a lake that was perfect for a quick dip and also a town that only had a tyre repair service which was a magnificent coincidence as we yet again busted another rim and we were out of spares.
Luckily we made contact with our convoy and found they were not too far ahead but with sunlight running out and the roads worsening, we decided to camp on the side of a small mountain and allow ourselves to be kept awake by what sounded like screaming moles in burrows below the tent. The only upside to our location was the beautiful landscape we awoke to the next morning. Our minds were focused solely on finding the other teams as our vehicular situation was certainly not ideal for a solo run of the northern route and crossing back to the southern route would be almost as difficult.
CONVOY CALAMITIES
After a nervous few days with the car, we checked into a yurt hostel to get some much needed rest. While there we met several rally teams: The Driving Dutchman, The Holy Kittens and The Ladateers. We all bonded in the true rally way by throwing a yurt party!
The convoy we had joined was planning to take the more scenic but extremely challenging northern route to Ulaanbaatar. For some reason we were confident again our already struggling car would handle it no problem. First we made our way east from Ulgii to Khovd and the scenery was absolutely stunning. Unfortunately we couldn't enjoy it as much as we wanted because several cars were having some issues. The Kittens and Get Trek'd both had loose sump guards and The Ladateers had a fountain of coolant shooting from their radiator and they had a loose rear axle. It seemed we all needed some stitching up before we tackled car-killer territory.
We spent the night camped up on a mountain just outside of khovd and the experience was made so much more enjoyable when Dani whipped up some traditional Spanish tortillas!
The mechanic in Khovd was more frustrating than helpful. It took over two hours for the simple task of screwing/welding our sump guard into place and it turned out he didn't actually fix it, but instead had welded a small piece of metal to the most irrelevant place on the underside of the car.
It also didn't help that there was a case of black plague in town within the last week. Still, we were just as ready for the northern route after Khovd as we were in Ulgii...
OUR CAR BROKE DOWN!
Following a rude awakening from a herd of goats in the campsite, we made ourselves a hearty full Irish breakfast to set us up for a day of scenic, hassle-free driving! Well, that would have been the case had Marco not decided to kick the bucket. We had some start-up issues before but we could tell this was something more serious. After several attempt to fix it ourselves, we decided to locate a mechanic in the nearby town of Nogoonnuur, which was more difficult than we thought as we had to communicate with charades. We were lucky to find a man who worked as a hobby mechanic and a friend of his who spoke excellent English.
After 8 hours in the blistering Mongolian heat and after doing all they could, we were told that the car was truly dead. The hospitality they showed us was very much appreciated but we needed to get to the city of Ulgii. So how on earth do we get a car that can't move to a city more than four hours away? We put it on the back of a truck of course! Easier said than done...
At the dead of night the car was pushed off of a raised plateau in the hills on to the modestly sized truck of our local mechanic. We told them it obviously wasn't going to work due to some minor technicality called gravity! They called in a larger truck to put Marco on and he just barely fitted inside. We were on our way! During our bumpy drive to Ulgii we weighed up our options. Our main assumption was that we would have to find a camel truck service to carry us to Ulaanbaatar. Upon arrival we stayed with the family of our driver in a traditional Mongolian yurt. The best thing about it was that they had the McGregor - Mayweather fight on TV!
The next morning Marco was dumped off the truck onto a hill and we were towed to the mechanic in town. He worked tirelessly to revive our trusty steed and during the day we interacted with locals and their families. We have also never drank as much Mongolian tea as we did that day. No matter where you are you will always be served strange starchy tea, bread and rock hard cheese... No, seriously, always! Regardless of what time it is.
In the late afternoon, our hopes had diminished to the point where we (and the mechanic) were ready to throw in the towel but decided to check the electrical system one last time and then we heard something we thought we never would hear again: The roar of our beautiful engine! We also got ourselves some overly sized springs for the back of the car as our original springs were knocked out in Kazakhstan. Finally some clearance under the car!
So with smiles all round and a functioning vehicle in our possession, we were well equipped to finish what we started. It's not over yet!
RUSSIA & ENTERING MONGOLIA
After our stay in Astana we made our way to the Russian border. Absolutely no issues at the border control and we were on our way within an hour. The roads in Russia were just beautiful. A vast improvement on what we were driving on in Kazakhstan. Our target for the night was Barnaul but upon arrival, we found that another team were possibly camping two hours from Barnaul so we made our way there. Unfortunately they were nowhere to be found and by this stage it was 3AM. Finding a suitable camping area in Russia is difficult as it is mostly residential streets but eventually at 5AM we found a small forest and slept in the car.
The drive from Barnaul to the Mongolian border was one of the best drives we have ever had. The scenery was absolutely stunning and the roads were getting better and better the further East we travelled. We stumbled upon italian team Public Nightmare on our way and decided to convoy for the Mongolian stretch of the journey.
Once in Mongolia we noticed the roads disappeared but the dirt track highway seemed acceptable to drive on. The dash in our car decided to stop working along the way but the engine still worked so we didn't care too much. We drove with the intention of reaching a lake close to the border but daylight was running out and we were halted by a flooded road, so we decided to set up camp just outside of a small village, Nogoonnuur, between the local yurts. The mountain ranges looked so inviting from the camp, we couldn't wait to tackle the infamous northern route.
KAZAKHSTAN (PART 3 - ASTANA)
After our fantastic experience in Aktobe we were filled with enthusiasm to see Astana, the capital city of Kazakhstan. After an 11 hour drive, and a pleasant stay in a wheat field, we arrived in the city at 4am. We would have arrived earlier had Dani not gotten pulled over for speeding. He hadn't seen the sign to say we were entering the Astana area where speed drops from 90 to 60. So apparently if you act extremely stupid and pretend you have no idea what's going on, not even hinting that you're smart enough to remember your own name, the police will get tired of you and let you go without paying a fine. Even when you are genuinely in the wrong! Excellent work Daniel!
The next day we took the chance to see the sights around the beautiful city and enjoyed the interesting international art exhibits that were displayed as part of the Expo 2017. We also took the time to display some art of our own as Nathan decided to plank on the "I <3 Astana" structure. However the police didn't appreciate the gesture and apparently it requires 3 officers and a sheriff to convey the message that lying down on things is a crime. Not paying a towel fine, speeding, laying down illegally... We seem to be building up a criminal reputation in Kazakhstan. Thug life.
KAZAKHSTAN (PART 2 - AKTOBE)
We travelled along 130km of dirt roads for a total of 6 hours with an overnight stay in the desert. With fuel running out we stopped off at Mukur to find some. A girl on her bike was kind enough to guide us to the "gas station" which consisted of a man with a jerry can beside a shack! The local kids swarmed to us to chat and sign the car. While leaving Mukur we found ourselves on the A27 Road that we were advised not to take but, to be honest, it was 100 times more bearable than the route we took to avoid it.
Our goal at this point was to find a mechanic to help us to reattach the sump guard, fix our now permanently locked boot door, diagnose our wailing engine and repair a flat tyre we picked up during our desert drive. We made our way to Aktobe, a reasonably large city in the north of Kazakhstan and found a mechanic shop pretty quickly.
As they looked at our car, a few locals began talking to us about our trip. One such man was extremely curious and delighted to talk with us. Soon we realised that he owned the place and we had made an invaluable friend in Viktor! He gave us coffee and corn on the cob while the car was being repaired and then after all was done, he said it was free of charge! All he asked was if we would join him for a BBQ cookout at his place just out of town. We couldn't say no. He also recommended a place next door to get our car washed inside and out. The people at the car wash gave us stellar service, we haven't seen Marco look that good since London! Once again, to our surprise, we were told it was free of charge!
That night we drove out to Victor's place and had possibly the best food yet while on the rally. Horse meat cooked with fresh vegetables from his garden. We still think of that meal while on the road... Our car was having some more engine trouble that night but no worries, Viktor asked us to go back to his workshop the next morning to sort it out and again he wouldn't take payment. The guys at Teboil, Aktobe, really looked after us so well and in general the city was just a pleasure to visit. We can't thank you enough Aktobe for the amazing hospitality you showed us.
KAZAKHSTAN (PART 1)
After the heart pounding exit from Turkmenistan, we were safely on Kazak soil. Or should I say, Kazak sand. The roads were not improving as we drove and we were beginning to think we would have to travel hundreds of kilometers on these types of "roads" at a snails pace. However after 50km we found ourselves on what was the best Road we have ever driven during the whole trip! We made great time that evening and stayed in a hotel in Zhanaozen.
We wanted to stay a while in Zhanaozen the next day but we were faced with a fine to pay for destroying a towel with sand after wiping down all of our sand-covered belongings the night before. Rather than paying the 20€ and since they did not want to give us back the passport, Dani stole it from behind reception when the coast was clear. They threatened to call the police, so we floored it out of the city as quick as possible and made sure to be as far from Zhanaozen as possible by the end of the night!
Beyneu was the next town on our route and on our way we bumped into two more rally teams; Pothole Panda and Aquaduck. After a quick photoshoot and flat tyre from trying to hi-5 while driving, we convoyed towards Beyneu. In the morning we found ourselves a mechanic who helped us with our rear window, our flat tyre and re-attached our sump guard by using bolts from the walls of his workshop!
We had a long drive ahead of us, so we left as soon as repairs were done. However, 2 and a half hours into our journey, Dani realised he left his bag behind at the mechanic in Beyneu... So after a 5 hour round trip we were back on course.
Several rally teams had recommended to avoid the A27 highway from Makat to Kandyagash as the potholes were the size of cars so we decided to take the eastward detour towards Mukur. We were doomed either way, the roads were a nightmare. If we thought the road in Turkmenistan was terrible, this one takes the cake. Averaging 10km/h, it was quicker to take the dirt roads to the side but more likely to wreck the car at higher speeds. The battery was dying, the dash warning lights were flashing, the engine sounded like crap... We were taking a big risk driving this route on our own. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!
